


Broken Bones

by princekaiju



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princekaiju/pseuds/princekaiju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will doesn't know how long he stands there, letting the water cool him and the blood on him, dripping slowly to the tiled floor that collects pools of clear liquid with swirls of red.<br/>	"Will." He doesn't move, keeping his eyes held shut as water pours over them and down his cheeks. He can feel someone move into the shower behind him, slowly turning him as the water trickles down his spine. "What the fuck did you get yourself into this time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Bones

It's his third fight in as many months.

Will barely remembers how this one started, honestly. An offhand comment, maybe; something that grated nerves already running far too thin. He doesn't look for these fights, but, then again, he never stops it when it happens. After meeting his father, though, he probably does search them out.

The beginning of the fight is a blur but he's there when his fist connects with a soft spot just under the sternum, quickly and succinctly knocking the breath out of the man in front of him. There's glancing blows, clipping his cheek and jaw, blood seeping between his teeth and dripping over his lip. The man slumps against him, half-heartedly trying to punch his ribs as he tries to regain his breath. Will lets him, for a moment; then a blow lands against his clenched jaw, knocking him back. 

Will lifts a hand to his mouth, wiping blood onto his skin. He's all too familiar with the taste seeping into the back of his throat; his clogged nose that he thinks might be broken makes it almost impossible to breathe. The man lunges again and this time Will spits blood in his eyes, more in defiance than actually practically as he's tackled to the ground. Pain shoots through his arm and into his shoulder. He squeezes his eyes shut, his body going numb, his throat filling with blood.

He can only breathe again when someone's pushing him up, his stomach heaving onto the coarse pavement between his legs. He hasn't eaten; blood and water drip from his lips, spikes of pain reminding him that something in his arm has been misplaced. He can't tell who's surrounding them, only that the man he was fighting is gone, replaced by a small throng of people pulling him to his feet, careful not to touch his left arm. They ask - at least, he thinks they ask - where he lives and he mutters an address through clenched teeth.

 

His keys are in his hand and he's standing in front of his door, his assistance now gone. He didn't notice them leave and hardly thinks on it now, managing to sink the metal teeth into the lock on his first try. His left arm is useless, at least for now, and he shoves the door open with his right shoulder, letting the door click locked behind him. It takes a moment of what seems like drunken stumbling for him to find the shower and turn it on. The shock of the cold water alleviates the pain if only a little and he lets it soak through his clothes, washing away the cracking splotches of blood already dried on his skin.

Will doesn't know how long he stands there, letting the water cool him and the blood on him, dripping slowly to the tiled floor that collects pools of clear liquid with swirls of red.

"Will." He doesn't move, keeping his eyes held shut as water pours over them and down his cheeks. He can feel someone move into the shower behind him, slowly turning him as the water trickles down his spine. "What the fuck did you get yourself into this time."

There's a pleasured tone to his voice that sits wrongly on Will's chest, but the throbbing in his nose and shoulder weigh far more. 

He whimpers when Matthew presses a warm fingertip against the side of his nose, the sound pitiful and involuntary. There's a moment where the hand falls away, instead searching through Matthew's pocket, pulling a pencil out of it. Matthew must be so happy.

"Hold still," he hums, gingerly moving the pencil into Will's nostril. His free hand cups the side of Will's face, gently sliding his fingers through Will's soaked hair and it's almost nice, just for once. Then his nose is violently and accurately set in place and Will's chocked scream echoes through the room, tearing at his throat. 

The bloody pencil clatters to the floor as Matthew runs his thumb over Will's cheek, his tone a mockery of soothing that Will can't help but lean into. He's held leaning against Matthew, blood again running freely over his lips, collecting on his chin. There's lips against his, then, and he's trying to return the kiss even through the numbing pain that Matthew seems so eager to ignore. It's when Matthew presses him against the shower wall and his shoulder makes contact with the cold tile that he chokes back a pained cry, instead biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed, though the taste is too familiar to notice.

"You've really broken yourself this time, haven't you?" Matthew murmurs against Will's skin, slowly peeling his shirt off to take a look. A bruise is already spreading over Will's shoulder, coloring the skin a deep shade of purple, the edges tinted yellow as they fade into his skin. Matthew's expression sets, his lips drawn into a line as he glances up at Will, placing his hand against the front of his shoulder, watching him wince in response.

He waits until Will's braced against the wall before quickly shoving the arm back up into the socket. There's another, quieter wince as Will sinks to the floor, gripping his arm just below the bruise, his vision white. There's pain, still, but it's fading into a throbbing numbness as water runs trails down his skin, little blood circling the drain. It's relief. He watches Matthew crouch in front of him, resting his forearms on his knees as he tilts his head to the side, a smile hinting at the edge of his lips.

"It's a good look for you," Matthew hums, earning a pained chuckle from Will. "...though probably unhealthy."

Will opens his eyes, blinking away water that's still clinging to his eyelashes. This is a mistake, he knows before he even acts. No use thinking that way. He grabs the collar of Matthew's shirt, now soaked through and clinging to his skin, pulling him into a rough kiss. There's no resistance. Matthew leans into him, his knees pressed into the floor tile as he slides a hand down Will's chest, hooking his fingers on the hem of Will's jeans. 

"You're what's bad for me," Will mutters against Matthew's lips, stifling a groan when Matthew undoes the front of his jeans, pale fingers running a line down the outline of Will's cock through soaked cloth. Matthew's smile distracts him for a moment before he's dipping down, licking diluted blood from Will's hips, nipping bruises as he comes across them. His lips brush over the tip of Will's cock and Will presses himself against the wall, his hips arching involuntarily into the touch.

"Yeah, I'm not the only thing." Will can't focus on anything but Matthew's breath, the pain echoing through his arm and chest, the water running down him in streaks. There's a sharp intake of breath when he feels Matthew's mouth on him, dipping down over his cock, tongue pressed up against the shaft. 

He can't help but moan, then, his hand finding the matted brown hair on the back of Matthew's neck, gripping weakly. If the fight didn't take it out of him the joint relocations did, his hands still shaking slightly from the adrenaline surge. His breathing's already strained, his cheeks flushing as he watches Matthew's tongue swirl around the tip of his cock before taking it in his mouth, his eyes flickering up to catch Will's gaze.

"Matt..." Will starts, shifting uncomfortably when he tries to lift his left arm, pain shooting through his chest and down his arm. Matthew's teeth graze against his skin and his hips threaten to jerk forward, a stammer of a moan tripping past his lips as he pushes himself back. It doesn't take long for him to come, his fingertips digging into Matthew's scalp, breathing out his name. Matthew leans back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That was quick." 

Will makes a noise that sounds like it might be a rebuttal, trying to sit himself up without leaning on his injured arm, lips pressed together to try and even out his breathing.

"Don't start - fuck," Will winces through his teeth, swallowing hard. Matthew's gaze traces over Will's shoulder, watching the purpling skin with distinct interest. He'd even go so far as to touch it, if he didn't know that Will would definitely punch him for it. Will tries - a bit desperately - to get to his feet, pushing a hand against the metal doorframe of the shower, finally standing on shaking legs.

"Start what?" Matthew chides anyway, his eyes flashing as he leans in, unhelpful, his thumb pushing into bruises on Will's ribs that he guesses must be new as he brushes his tongue against marks he'd left on Will's throat, teasing them with grazing teeth. 

"Stop it," Will tries, though the sound comes out like more of a moan than he would like, his eyes fluttering shut, head tilting to the side. He can feel the smirk against his skin, fingers digging into bruises that makes him whimper.

"Make me."


End file.
